on grannies

it's the same old routine, the same old pattern

once again my mum was up late last night, worrying

just waiting for a simple call to say that everything was okay

(possibilities for disaster are always endless in a mother's mind)

she got her call, but not till 1.15am, several hours in to panic

but, for once, she wasn't waiting on a call from me

me, i made the last bus, highly respectable

so anyway, my granny eventually called to say she was home, safe and sound. she'd been at her neighbourhood's christmas do, turkey and ham, party hats, the whole nine yards. (the food was terrible by the way, too cold by the time it made the tables, so 50 or so OAP's noisily complained, waved various walking aids in the air and duly received a partial refund of 10euro. it brings to mind that scene from Tough Guys when Burt Lancaster taps his teeth and says, "See these...? all mine... we want REAL FOOD", or words to that effect)

culinary problems aside though, it seems fun was had by all

she danced the night away with this, from a woman of 79 that fractured three veritbrae in her spine last march

this blog, from a lad of 23 that at 1.30pm still feels half asleep, has never danced despite a relatively intact spine, and wouldn't complain about the food if it waved at me before lighting a cigarette

more power to her